


Fine Jewel Contracting

by mistyzeo



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Thieves, Community: spn_j2_xmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-25
Updated: 2009-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-12 02:56:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyzeo/pseuds/mistyzeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is an expert safecracker, and Jared has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fine Jewel Contracting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cormallen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cormallen/gifts).



> my [](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_xmas/profile)[**spn_j2_xmas**](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_xmas/) gift for [](http://cormallen.livejournal.com/profile)[**cormallen**](http://cormallen.livejournal.com/)! Happy holidays! oh god i hope you like it. =D

  
"Jensen, baby, I'm telling you." Sandy's voice is tinny over the phone, and Jensen cradles it between his shoulder and his ear while he tries to pick up his cup of coffee and a lid at the same time. "This one's going to be big, and you should be in on it."

"Look Sandy," he says, "I'm flattered that you called, but I don't like the idea of working with anyone whose reputation I don't know."

"Jensen," she hisses, dropping to a whisper, "you don't know his rep because he's never been caught. That's what I'm trying to tell you. He puts together the most ridiculous schemes, and pulls them off! You remember the Hague in 2007? Rumor has it he orchestrated that."

"Rumor has it," Jensen snorts, shouldering the cafe door open and ducking out into the cold November air. "The kid probably plays that shit up just for the glory."

"He's good," she says. "You'll see. Okay, I've gotta go, but seriously. Think about it, call me back, and maybe you can meet him. Get the details."

Jensen harrumphs noncommittally, transferring the coffee to the other hand and adjusting his hold on the phone. "I'll think about it," he agrees.

And that's how he ends up meeting the boy without a rep a week later, in his flat in Borgourhout on the east side of Antwerpen, Belgium. Jensen takes the train from Paris, a little less than two hours, and he's in Antwerpen by late afternoon. Antwerpen is a perfect walking city, but it's fucking freezing now, and Jensen turns up on the kid's doorstep shivering, tucking his chin as far down into his coat collar as it'll go, and mashing the door bell.

"Oui?"

Holy shit. That voice is deep and gentle and pleasant, and damned if Jensen doesn't feel a bit weak in the knees. He attributes this reaction to a single word to his not getting laid in about six weeks, and puts his face up to the call box.

"Sandy called me."

"Oh, yeah. Come on up."

The door buzzes, and Jensen slips inside as fast as he can. It's warmer in the foyer, and he jogs his way up a flight of stairs. The door is cracked open, and Jensen can hear the radio playing, and the smell of tomato sauce cooking on the stove. He nudges the door open, taking a deep breath, and pokes his head in.

"Hey?"

Sandy's sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in her hand, and she jumps up and sets the glass down and hurries over to meet him. She gives him a hug, and he regrets how cold the outside of his coat must be, but she takes it from him and hangs it up in the closet, waving off his apologies for being late.

"Don't worry, babe," she says. "He's not quite done making dinner, even though he promised it to be ten minutes ago. He's such a perfectionist. I'm starving!"

"Does he have a name?" Jensen asks in a low whisper, and then _he_ comes out of the kitchen.

And fuck, does the man match the voice, and he is _not_ a kid. He's tall and fit, slim in the waist and broad shouldered. His dark jeans are tight, but not obscene, and he's barefoot. He's wearing a maroon shirt under a hoodie that says TEXAS on the front, and Jensen looks up into his face. He's got warm, hazel eyes, and floppy, wavy hair, and a day's worth of stubble on his chin, and Jensen fights the ridiculous urge to lick his jaw, feel the scrape of hair on his tongue.

"Hi," the _not-a-fucking-kid_ says, wiping his hand on the kitchen towel he's carrying and holding it out. "I'm Jared."

Dinner is awesome, if simple. Jared made pasta and sauce from scratch, with three kinds of meat in it. Sandy has made a salad, and Jensen feels silly for not having contributed anything of his own. Jared shushes him and pours him more wine, and they talk about San Antonio and Dallas and American football and dogs. Jared wants dogs so badly, but his flat isn't big enough. Jensen had a cat for a while, when he lived in the States, but she's living with his sister now, and he suspects the cat likes Mack better anyway.

After dinner, Jensen helps Jared clear the table, putting dishes in the sink, and Jared insists he leave them for now and shoos him back into the living room. Sandy's back on the couch, legs tucked up under her, leaning on one armrest. She grins at Jensen and waves at them to sit down.

"Boys, come on now. Pleasantries are over. Let's talk business."

Jared sits down beside her, leaving Jensen to take the (surprisingly comfortable) chair across the coffee table from them.

"So Sandy tells me you're quite something," Jensen says. Jared ducks his head and blushes and gets this really pleased, amused look on his face. Jensen bites his lip to keep a smirk in check.

"I mean," Jared says, "I had an idea. I needed a few good people to make it happen."

"Why me?" Jensen asks.

"I trust Sandy. I asked her to find me a guy who knew his stuff, and if she picked you and you want in, then we're good."

Jensen leans back in his chair and crosses his ankle over his knee. "What kind of stuff am I supposed to know?"

"Surveillance systems," Jared says simply, lacing his fingers together, almost nervous, and then he lets go and runs a hand through his hair instead. "Sandy's my decoy, I've already got a tech guy and a tactical removal in the works, and I needed a specialist."

Jensen smiles. "I think I'm your guy."

"I think you are," Jared drawls, grinning, and Jensen can't help it if his stupid dick takes interest in a suggestion that deliberate. Jared is hot, probably firm all over, if the way his t-shirt stretches over his chest gives any indication. He's also smart, and has a goofy, playful sense of humor, and while Jensen didn't think he really went for that, apparently he does. Jared has a sweet smile with a little bit of a mischievous edge to it, and _dimples_ for chrissake, and Jensen's started to accidentally imagine the way his hands would feel, fuck, _anywhere_.

He clears his throat surreptitiously. "So what are you up to?"

"There's over two hundred million dollars in diamonds in the vaults in the Diamond Centre," Jared says seriously, looking him in the eye. "I want it."

Jensen is so on board. The way Jared brightens at his smile makes it clear that it's obvious on his face. It's true, Jensen is a surveillance expert. He knows all about cameras and electronic locks. He's excellent at memorizing the schedules of security guards, and really fucking good (if he does say so himself) at safecracking, and he's pro at getting the right keys for the right doors, and getting through those doors without being noticed. It sounds like Jared already has a plan in the works, and he wants in.

So he says so.

Sandy beams. "I told you this was good," she squeals.

Jensen pauses, suddenly realizing that perhaps his libido was a little too excited, and he's just agreed to help rob the Diamond Centre.

"Wait a minute," he says. "This is going to be impossible. Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack," Jared says. "I've got some things lined up. Are you in?"

Jensen thinks. He really thinks. He stares at Jared's coffee table, contemplating.

Okay, here's the thing. Jensen is really good at what he does. He's orchestrated several decent heists himself, stealing jewels from dealers in Paris and Barcelona, and even in Torino. He's gotten away with all of them, and is living really comfortably in Paris right now. He's got a flat that overlooks the Seine, and it's spacious and quiet and gorgeous.

And maybe it's the adrenaline involved, and the rush he gets when he's pulled off something really good, but sometimes— _sometimes,_ maybe like once or twice—he even thinks about a good heist when he jerks off. All right, seriously, not the heist itself, but he's caught his imagination sticking on the idea of getting fucked on the floor of a vault with the steel door unlocked and the security camera running. It's kind of hot.

And then he stops staring at the bookshelves in Jared's flat, and looks at Jared. Jared is looking back, serious and earnest, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes look more green in this light, and he's really goddamn handsome, and maybe big hands and six-foot-plus is going to factor into Jensen's crazy vault fantasy sooner rather than later.

So he nods slowly, and says, "Yes."

\---

Jensen goes home the next afternoon, and spends the night in his flat packing. Jared's got the groundwork for this plan already laid, but it's going to be another couple months before they can act. The World Cup is in June, but there are trials in Antwerpen in March, and that's what he's aiming for. Big sporting events always empty the city proper really well, Jensen knows this to be true. World Cup finals are nothing to scoff at.

When he gets back to Antwerpen, a little worn out from all the traveling, Sandy puts him in her guest room and tells him to sleep it off.

It's Wednesday, December third, when Jensen sees Jared again. Jared's asked Jensen to meet him at a cafe on the edge of the diamond district, and to "look sharp." Jensen knows how it goes.

He shows up on time, half past nine, showered and clean shaven and wearing a two hundred euro three-piece suit. Jared is sitting at a table by the window inside the cafe, and he looks up from the newspaper spread out when Jensen comes in.

"Bonjour," Jared says neutrally, but he looks impressed, one eyebrow raised and a little smile on his face. Jensen smirks and nods and goes and orders a coffee. He takes his time adding milk and sugar, and when he finally gets back to the table, Jared's eyes have gone a little dark, and his cheeks are pink.

"Morning," Jensen says, in French, if he didn't just play hard to get for five minutes.

Jared clears his throat and smiles. "You're staying at Sandy's, right?" His accent is beautiful. Jensen wants to hear him talk dirty. He nods and sips his coffee as casually as he can. It's really fucking hot, and not at all sexy.

"Can you drink and walk?"

"Absolutely," Jensen says. He needs to give it time to cool off so he can drink it without dying. He stands and Jared follows him out the front door into the cold, pulling on a coat and wrapping a scarf around his neck. Jensen buttons his own coat back up, one handed, and blows across the top of his coffee.

"I've got an office," Jared says, switching to English, "in the Diamond Centre."

"Wow. That takes balls."

"Nah," Jared says, grinning, "just a two year lease."

"Two years?"

"I don't intend to use it all," Jared says.

Jensen surreptitiously takes in the layout of the district as they head towards the Diamond Centre on the south end of the street. They pass a police booth with two officers sitting behind bulletproof glass watching the passersby. Jensen turns his face up, looking up the buildings, and sees video cameras on every building, at every corner. He's going to need to take pictures of this to get it all accurate, but for now he just looks. There are people all around, doing heavy business. Lots of money passes through here every day, and Jensen can practically taste it.

His coffee is cool enough to finish.

The Diamond Centre is at the south end of the district, and Jared digs into his pocket as they approach the building. It's built like a fortress. Jared waves to a guard who walks past on his beat as they go in the front doors. The hallway is blocked by metal turnstiles and a guard desk. Jared pulls out his tenant badge, and the guard waves him through.

"Morning Monsieur Winchester!" he calls. Jensen tries to follow, but the guard's face darkens and he puts a hand out. "Sorry sir, I need some ID."

"He's with me," Jared says.

"I don't doubt that, Monsieur Winchester, but you know how it is."

"Not to worry," Jensen says, pulling out his own wallet. He hands it over to the guard, open and trusting, and the guard peers at the ID and at his face. Jensen knows by now they've gotten a good long video camera shot of him, and he just smiles placidly, waiting.

"I'll need you to sign in," the guard says.

"Sure, great," Jensen says, and takes the pen he's handed. He writes _Mr. James Hetfield_ in the book, takes his wallet back, and the guard lets him through. Jensen breathes a very quiet sigh of relief. He should have gotten Jared's alias before they got in here-- of course he wasn't going to take out a lease under his own name. Which reminds him.

"So-" he says as the elevator door closes, and Jared shoves him against the wall. Oh christ.

"Cameras have audio," Jared whispers against his neck, unbuttoning his coat and sliding his hand in. Jensen thumps his head back and closes his eyes, gripping Jared's shoulders, knowing this is for show but unable to help the way his heart rate kicks up. "Samuel Winchester, American jewel dealer. Been here two months, done some business already. We'll talk about it in a minute, all right?"

The elevator doors ding open, and Jared pulls away, stepping out easily. Jensen follows him after a second of collecting himself, legitimately thrown off guard, and is shocked to find his coffee has not spilled all over the place.

Jared leads him down a brightly lit hallway to a door that says _Samuel Winchester; Winchester Fine Jewel Contracting_. Jared opens it, and Sandy is sitting at the front desk. She looks up and beams.

"Morning Mr. Winchester!" she chirps, and Jensen is surprised again. He knew she was a cheerful gal, but he had no idea she could pull of "secretary" so well. She's wearing a twinset and has a phone headset on.

"Good morning, Miss Harvelle," Jared says, ushering Jensen in and closing the door behind him. Jensen isn't sure how long he's supposed to keep up the charade, but he winks at Sandy and follows Jared through the little front office space and through another door, which turns out to be a big office with a big desk and an eighth story view of the plaza of the diamond district below.

"Wow," he says.

"Yeah," Jared agrees, holding out a hand for his coat, which he hangs on the coat rack. "Okay, sorry we didn't go over things before. That was stupid, but I know you were scouting."

Jensen grins and sticks his hands in his pockets, turns away from the window.

"What's the name on your ID?" Jared asks, holding out his hand. Jensen hands the wallet to him, and Jared snorts as he looks at the name.

"James Hetfield? No one's called you on that?"

Jensen laughs aloud, truly delighted. "No one but you," he says, chuckling. "Same name as on my French passport. America needed a break from Jensen Ackles."

There it is. They haven't exchanged full names yet. Jensen knows Sandy's, obviously. They're friends beyond the whole successful-jewel-thief thing. But Jared's he doesn't know.

Jared recognizes the display of trust for what it is. He smiles. "Well, Jared Padalecki wasn't going to be renting an office space in Belgium anytime soon," he replies. "Since last time I checked he lived in San Antonio with his momma."

"Padalecki? That's a mouthful." Jared just raises an eyebrow, and Jensen splutters, blushing, realizing what he just said. "I mean- that wasn't what-"

Jared starts to laugh, and Jensen is relieved to feel like he isn't being laughed at. He grins and ducks his head until Jared quiets down, sighing.

"Sorry. Anyway." He coughs, and Jensen glances up again.

"So what are you doing here?" Jensen asks. "Fine Jewel Contracting?"

"I'm a dealer," Jared says, sitting down behind his desk and leaning back in his chair. He waves Jensen towards one of the chairs on the other side of the desk. "I have a private collection, and I do some small, mostly legitimate transactions that keep my books real and my presence obvious. I'm still in watching mode, and it would be stupid of me to try to sneak inside this place. It's much easier to get into the vault if you've got a lock box down there."

Jensen leans forward. "And you do."

"I do," Jared agrees. "Well, Winchester Fine Jewel Contracting does. So they know me here. Here's the deal. I want you to come on as my associate, my business partner. We'll get you an ID, and you can work here in the office."

"I'm sorry, you want me to do my work _here?_ "

Jared nods. "I know it's unconventional, but it'll give you better access to anything you could need."

"But all of the history will be on the computer."

"I can get you a laptop. Get it encoded. Just take it with you when we go, and we'll get rid of it."

Jensen narrows his eyes. Jared sighs.

"I just want you close so you can get a feel for the building. When we get back to my place tonight, I'll show you the pictures. And I've got a ten thirty appointment, if you want to stick around and see the vault afterward."

"If I want-- of course I want to see the vault. Pictures or no, seeing it's the only way to get a good sense of the place. How'd you get pictures?"

Jared grins, obviously pleased with himself. "Pen cam."

"No way."

"Yeah. Sandy got it for me. Best birthday present ever." He looks at his watch and stands up. "It's a quarter past ten now. More coffee?"

\---

The ten thirty is a short Jewish man with a broad brimmed hat and a dark suit. Jared greets him warmly in perfect French, shaking his hand and introducing Jensen as his associate. The client gives Jensen a once-over, pronounces him "good," and sits on the couch. Jared sits opposite him at the table, waves Jensen into the other chair. The man opens the briefcase handcuffed to his wrist, and Jensen bites down a little gasp of appreciation.

The briefcase is mostly filled with black foam, but there are sapphires the size of an American dime studded in the foam, sparkling blue. Jared reaches out and gently takes one out. He gets up and goes to his desk, comes back with a little eyeglass. He peers at the sapphire under it, holding it up to the light, and Jensen wonders how watching him look at a jewel through a glorified magnifying glass could possibly be sexy, but is. Jared catches him, and he winks as he places the gem back in its foam and takes another.

The whole time he's carrying on a conversation with the client about the origin of the sapphires and whether there are certificates of authenticity, what he thinks their best use would be, where they came from. The client is rather closed-mouthed about the source, but Jared glosses over that easily, and when he's satisfied as to the quality of them, he puts the gems back and stands up. Underneath his desk is a heavy locked safe, and he comes back holding a packet of crisp hundred-Euro notes.

"You said four hundred per carat, is that correct?"

The man nods, smug. "They are beautiful sapphires, are they not?"

Jared grins. "They are, sir, and I'm perfectly happy doing business with you." He hands over the banded money, and the client counts it quickly. Then he allows Jared to take out the sapphires one by one and put them in a small velvet case, before putting the money where the gems were and locking the briefcase up again.

"It's been a pleasure, Monsieur Winchester," the client says, bowing, and Jared sees him out.

When he comes back, still holding the velvet box, he's grinning like a boy with a secret. "Okay, you wanna see the vault now?"

They ride the elevator down to the basement in silence. The vault is two stories below ground, and Jensen stands casually, staring at the numbers as they go down. Jared thumbs through the applications on his phone, checking his email or something. The doors ding open.

The hallway in front of them is short, with the entrance to the vault right there. During the day the steel door is open, Jared explains, and Jensen gets a good look at how thick it is. It has a combination wheel on the front, and Jensen immediately spots the camera pointed at the door, the keypad beside the door, and one half of a magnet alarm system. Jared throws him a small smile as they exit the elevator. There is another door in the adjacent wall-- security antechamber, Jensen guesses-- and Jared walks up to the steel gate separating the hallway from the vault. Jensen can see in now to a fairly large room with vault boxes lining two walls.

Jared pushes a buzzer next to the door and looks up at the camera beside the door. There's a pause. Then a voice comes through an overhead speaker, "Good morning, Mister Winchester, I'm sorry to bother you, but could you identify your companion please?"

Jared beams and leans over, pushing the button on the buzzer again. "This is my associate, James Hetfield. He's signed in upstairs."

Another pause.

"Does he have a Diamond Centre issued ID?"

Jared shakes his head, pressing and answering, "No, he doesn't."

"Mister Hetfield," the voice says, "I apologize for the inconvenience, but we cannot allow anyone from outside into the vault. Please remain standing where you are while Mister Winchester goes inside."

Jensen looks up at the camera and nods his understanding, silently cursing. Of course they wouldn't let him in. That would be idiotic.

Jared gives him an apologetic smile, and the door clicks open. He goes in, and Jensen stays where he is, brushing invisible dust off the lapel of his suit. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Jared unlock his vault box, pull it out slowly, place the sapphires in, close it again, and lock it up. Then he comes out, the door clicks again, and Jared gives a wave and a wink towards the security camera, and leads Jensen back to the elevator.

"We'll get you an ID," Jared says simply as they ride back up to the eighth floor.

\---

That evening, Jensen drives with Sandy back to Jared's place. They order pizza and sit on the floor of Jared's living room, looking over the pictures he has of the Diamond Centre vault.

"These are good," Jensen says, impressed, stuffing pizza into his mouth.

Sandy gives him a dirty look. "You're disgusting."

Jensen shrugs, chewing enthusiastically, and Jared snorts. "That is pretty gross, dude. Okay, are you going to need anything else from these? Or can your incredible security brain get us into the vault from these pictures?"

Jensen swallows and wipes his face with a napkin. "I'm going to need some time, obviously. Get a look at it myself. But the pictures are real good, and we can build an agenda from these. You said I was getting a computer." He looks at Jared, not wanting to push, but if the guy can rent an office space, he can get Jensen a secure laptop.

Jared nods. "Yeah. Definitely. I'll have my tech guy set it up for you, so it's locked down."

"I'll get you a list of other things I need on it," Jensen says, running through a couple of programs in his head that'll make his life easier in terms of watching security, tapping into the building's video system, and getting a map of the alarm system. Most companies don't even know they have one of those, but Jensen has rarely had trouble finding it. He needs blueprints and to compile a security layout, and he'll be golden.

That'll just take time, though.

\---

At ten o'clock on Friday night, Jared calls Sandy's house and Jensen picks up.

"Great," Jared says, "I was hoping to catch you. Listen, I want you to meet the rest of the crew."

"Yeah," Jensen breathes. He's an expert, but he's not superman, and he was hoping he'd get to know the other guys he'll be working with. "Where? When?"

Jared laughs. "Calm down, cowboy. There's a nightclub on Korte Gasthiusstraat that I like, and it's a good place to meet people you don't know."

"Public is private," Jensen agrees. "It's where?"

"Nevermind." Jensen hears a jingling noise (keys, he thinks), and Jared makes a sound like he's getting up out of that really comfy chair Jensen experienced as his place. "I'll pick y'all up in fifteen?"

"Fifteen?" Jensen squawks. "Are you kidding me? I need more time than that to get ready."

"Wow," Jared laughs. "You're really gay."

"Oh shut up," Jensen huffs. "I have shirts I like to wear. To clubs. Okay, Jared, just don't be pissed if I'm not ready when you get here." He hangs up, and Sandy giggles behind him. "Yeah you shut up too," he says, growling playfully. "I get to meet the gang at some club he likes. He'll be here in fifteen minutes."

Sandy looks shocked and appalled that Jared would presume to arrive in such a short amount of time, and she hurries off to get dressed, yelling, "Dibs on the bathroom!" behind her.

"Fuck," Jensen mutters, and goes into the guest room to figure out which shirt he can wear that's both appropriately subdued for business and appropriately slutty for a nightclub.

When Sandy answers the door sixteen minutes later, Jensen comes out buttoning his shirt and stops dead in the hallway.

Goddamn it, Jared looks good. He's wearing those dark, tight jeans again, and somehow he's managing to wear a blue plaid button-down without looking like a douchebag. Instead, the shirt is tight across his chest, subtly shows off his biceps, and under it Jensen can see the neck of a gray t-shirt.

Fortunately, Sandy looks good too, so he drags his eyes off Jared and looks at her. She just raises an eyebrow, pulling on a coat, and says, "Can we go?"

"Uh, yeah," Jensen says. Jared grins.

The drive there is short, but Jared takes ten extra minutes to park his car. He flashes a grin to the guy standing at the door of the club, calling, "Bonsoir, Eddy!" and Jensen and Sandy are waved in with him, no cover.

"They're here, good," Jared says in Jensen's ear. One of his hands lands in the small of Jensen's back, and he turns Jensen gently. There are tables set up next to the railing that separates the bar area from the dance floor, and Jensen scans the crowd, acutely aware of the warmth of Jared's palm through his shirt. There are small groups of people everywhere, and none of them are distinctive. Then he sees two men and a woman sitting together, and--

"Is that Danneel?"

Jared laughs, surprised. "You know Danneel?"

"Yeah," Jensen says. "I did a couple of jobs with her. Nice work, man, she's good."

Jared smirks. He's still got his hand planted firmly on Jensen's back, and Jensen is starting to warmth of it elsewhere-- namely, his dick, which isn't hard yet, but Jensen knows the slow hot pulse that means it won't take much. "What're you drinking?" Jared asks, and his voice is low, against Jensen's ear.

"Beer? Something local. Dark."

"I'm on it." The hand disappears, and Jared slips off to the bar.

"He didn't offer me a drink," Sandy pouts as she and Jensen approach the table. Jensen just grins, stomach fluttering.

Danneel spots him, looks shocked for a second, mouth open and eyes wide, and then jumps up from the table and practically flies into his arms.

"Jenny baby! It's you!"

Jensen groans and hugs her. "I fucking hate when you call me that," he says.

"Hi Danneel, nice to see you too," Danneel mocks. She lets go of him and pulls him over to the table where the two men are sitting.

"Guys," she says, "This is my friend, Jensen."

Jared appears out of nowhere, and Jensen has no idea how he does it. Jared presses the cold bottle into his hand, winks, and slings an arm around his shoulders. The two men at the table are already getting up and holding out their hands. The shorter, scruffy one wearing a beanie is Chad, and the tall black dude is Aldis. They greet Jensen warmly, Aldis shakes Jensen's hand with both of his own.

"Chad is my tech guy," Jared offers as they all sit again, pulling up chairs for Sandy and Jensen and Jared. His whole face is lit up, and not just by the flashing pink disco lights. He looks honestly happy, excited that they're all here, and Jensen feels all shivery in a good way. "Aldis is transportation. You know what Danny does."

Danneel grins, pleased. "It's nothing," she says, biting her lip demurely.

"You replicate a foot long key and then tell me it's nothing."

Jensen snorts. "That's gotta be the dumbest thing I've ever heard of."

"It's impossible to copy," Danneel says, so cheerful that she obviously means _for anyone that isn't me._

The nightclub isn't the perfect place to talk business, but they chat a little, alluding and hinting. It's like a game. Jensen finishes his first beer and starts on a second. Turns out Chad was a Computer Science major in college and worked at a "boring ass" computer company (Jared whispers, "Microsoft") before he found something better to do with his time. He started stealing pennies from large bank transactions, and eventually quit his job to do it full time. Aldis is a professional stunt driver with no criminal record.

"Really?" Jensen asks, incredulous, pointing at him with the mouth of his beer bottle. "What're you doing here?"

"No record," Aldis says. "Not 'no history.'"

Jared laughs, warm and bright, and Jensen grins.

Danneel is a sculptor moonlighting as a thief, and she's an expert at recreating keys. She cuts them by hand, because "perfection is God's work," as she says, and Jensen choruses it with her, laughing.

Jared is still nursing his first beer. He's driving, he mopes, so he's got to stay sharp. Chad and Aldis make fun of him, and decide to taunt him by trading shots of Jaeger until Chad is cackling while Aldis coughs his way through the fifth shot.

"Hey," Jensen says, emboldened by the two beers and one shot of Jaeger, and he stands up. Jared looks up at him, and Jared puts out a hand. "Nightclubs are for dancing."

The confused expression on Jared's face morphs into a slow smile, and he gets up, putting the mostly-empty bottle down on the table. Danneel rolls her eyes and turns back to Sandy, who is scouting men out on the floor.

Jensen turns away from Jared and heads for the floor, around the railing and down two steps. He can feel Jared at his back, and by the time he's got both feet on the faux-wood floor, Jared's hands are on his hips. Just for effect, Jensen pushes his way through the crowd a bit until they're surrounded by bodies, and they aren't as visible to the table. Jensen's a private guy, and although he's used to this kind of public-- here he is in a Belgian nightclub about to grind up on the guy who's hired him to steal a ton of money in diamonds—he'd rather a little bit of shielding from his new co-workers.

Jared presses up tight behind him, and the music is a little fast, but Jensen's already moving. Jared keeps up, hips fitting to Jensen's like they were made for it, and Jensen is suddenly incredibly turned on at the thought. Jared drops his head, pressing his temple to Jensen's, and Jensen closes his eyes. They rock with the music, pulsing and thumping, and Jared's hands slip under the hem of Jensen's shirt. His palm is hot and huge against Jensen's stomach, and Jared sucks in a breath near his ear. Jensen smirks and rocks his hips back and forth, placing his hand over Jared's. His other hand drifts back, sliding over Jared's hip, the seam of his jeans, and Jensen gets a good hold on his ass. He tucks his fingers into Jared's back pocket, and Jared's practically fused to him.

Jared's sweating, and Jensen can feel it against the back of his neck. It's a little gross, but Jared's so fucking hot anyway that he can't bring himself to care. The music is pounding, and Jensen catches the lyrics and can't help the snort of laughter. Sometimes translation to English shouldn't be allowed, he thinks, and Jared pulls back half a millimeter.

"What's funny?" he asks, loud over the music. Jensen takes the opportunity to turn around, and then he's plastered to Jared's front. Jared's hand slides around to his back, still under his shirt, and Jensen puts his own hand back in Jared's pocket, squeezing.

"They should stick to their own language," he calls, as the song insists _Smell.... my skin..._

Jared throws his head back and laughs, still moving with Jensen, and Jensen decides to kiss him. It's a very simple decision, and he's sliding his hand up the back of Jared's neck before he knows it. Jared leans in easily, and Jensen catches him with his mouth half-open already. It starts out gentle, testing, but Jensen slides his tongue into Jared's mouth, and Jared's hand spreads across his back, pulling him closer, if that were even possible.

Jared moans into Jensen's mouth, and Jensen kisses him harder, teeth colliding, sucking Jared's tongue. He sucks his lower lip for a brief moment, and Jared smiles and kisses him again. Jared's other hand leaves Jensen's hip and cups the back of his head, licking into his mouth. Jared is huge and warm and firm, Jensen pressed against his broad chest, and Jensen can feel himself getting hard. The music makes it impossible to stop moving, all pumping, heavy bass and flashing lights, and he and Jared are grinding pretty seriously now. Jared shifts and slides his thigh between Jensen's legs, and Jensen can feel his hard-on through his jeans. They're even tighter now, and he rubs his upper thigh experimentally against the ridge of his cock.

Jared jerks, surprised, and he breaks the kiss to stare down at Jensen, eyes shining in the crazy light. Jensen can see his pupils are wide and dark, thin ring of hazel around the blackness, and Jensen licks his lip slowly. Jared's eyes flick down and back up, and then Jared's hand slides lower, onto Jensen's ass, and he pulls Jensen's hips in tight against his own.

"Oh fuck," Jensen hisses, suddenly getting the contact his dick was aching for, in the form of Jared's firm, denim-clad thigh, and he can't help the little roll of his hips that follows. Jared grins and catches up to the music again, grinding in tight little circles, more or less dry humping Jensen on the dance floor. Jensen just holds on, one hand in Jared's back pocket, the other tangled in Jared's hair at the base of his neck. He presses his forehead to Jared's shoulder, and both of Jared's hands are on his ass now, holding and squeezing, and Jensen swears his cock is throbbing on the beat.

Jared nudges at Jensen's cheek with his nose, pressing a kiss to his neck, sucking lightly, and Jensen's head falls back, exposing his throat. Jared fastens his mouth onto Jensen's pulse, now just straight-up thrusting against him, every movement of his hip flexing his thigh against Jensen's trapped, leaking erection. Jensen is giving as good as he's getting, though, because Jared is getting more frantic, and Jensen can feel the drag of his—okay, really big—cock against his leg, in the groove of his hip.

Jensen tightens his fingers in Jared's hair, pulls him up for another wet, sloppy kiss, and says against his lips, "You good to drive?"

"Uh," Jared says. "Yeah?"

"Good. Can we get out of here?" Jensen emphasizes with an exaggerated thrust of his hips, making Jared bite back a moan. "Because I really want this in my ass."

"God damn," Jared drawls, squeezing his ass hard, "yeah, I wanna fuck you."

"So let's go," Jensen insists, reluctant to disengage, but refusing to let Jared get him off in his pants in the middle of a club. He's hard and horny, but he's not a slut, and Jensen is going to experience Jared's cock in his god damn bed.

Jared agrees by pulling away, groping Jensen obviously, curling his fingers into the flesh of Jensen's ass, dragging down his crack through his pants. Jensen shivers and grabs his hand, pulling him insistently through the crowd.

"We're leaving!" Jared yells to Sandy as they grab their coats. "Danny can give you a ride?"

Sandy just sighs and waves him off, and Jared practically shoves Jensen out the door into the cold, barely giving him time to get his coat on.

\---

The walk to the car calms them down some, but Jensen slides his hand into Jared's pocket again, giving him a little grope, and Jared curls his arm around Jensen's waist.

It's weirdly quiet once they're in the car, and Jared turns on the heat full blast and lead-foots it back towards his place. He jumps when Jensen's hand creeps across the space between them and over his thigh. Jensen's fingers find his half-hard cock, and he gets fully hard under Jensen's hand with a few gentle, firm squeezes.

"Shit, I gotta drive, man," he hisses, and Jensen ignores him, reaching up higher to pop the button on his jeans. "Seriously, Jensen, oh _god_ ," as Jensen unzips him.

But it turns out that Jared's tight jeans are, well, just that: tight. Jensen can't get his hand in, so he lets go and unbuttons his own, drawing the zipper down and palming himself through his shorts.

Jared looks over and catches sight of him, and Jensen is looking back, hand working slowly inside his jeans. Jensen can feel how hot his face is, can tell Jared is just as hot, even with the dark car, and then Jared lets go of the wheel with one hand and slides it up Jensen's thigh until his fingers are brushing Jensen's balls through his pants.

"Fuck, oh fuck," Jensen groans, "easy," pulling his hand out. He'll get there too fast, and he wants to come while Jared's cock is buried deep in his ass, thick and hard, pressing on his prostate with every stroke of his hips. Oh, Christ, they'd better get to the flat soon.

Jared, thank god, pulls into a parking spot and yanks the key out of the ignition. Jensen buttons back up, but Jared just leaves his jeans open and hustles Jensen to the door and up the stairs, hands on his hips and ass, skating over his stomach, slipping between his coat and his shirt.

Jared slams the door behind them and Jensen pushes him up against it. Jared huffs and grabs him and kisses him, hard and deep. Jensen ruts his hips up against Jared's again, cock squeezed at an uncomfortable angle, already so wound up he could burst.

Jared pushes him off after a minute, growling "Bedroom," and Jensen allows himself to be pulled in that direction. Jared pulls his shirt off over his head on the way, and Jensen unbuttons his own. Jared turns and catches him and pulls the shirt off himself, leaving it on the floor and sliding his hands up Jensen's bare torso, mouthing at his neck.

"Get," Jensen orders, and Jared grins and pushes his jeans down off his hips and pulls Jensen into his bedroom.

Jared's bed is fucking huge, first of all. Second of all, it's really comfortable, which Jensen discovers when Jared pushes him backwards onto it and crawls on top of him. Jensen lets Jared yank his jeans and shorts off and spreads his legs, cock bobbing thick and hard between them, balls drawn up tight.

"Goddamn you're hot," Jared whispers, "I can't wait to fuck you. I'm gonna lick you open and make you come and fuck you so hard you'll feel it next week. That sound good, Jensen? You want me to do that? You want me to fuck you?"

Holy shit. Jensen's never really been into dirty talk, but Christ, he'll take more of that from Jared every fucking day. He just nods and manages, "Yeah, fuck me, come on," and Jared's kissing him again, hot and wet, cupping his face with one hand. The other's on Jensen's hip, thumb stroking over Jensen's skin, and he's shivering with how every touch sends little sparks right to his dick.

Jared breaks the kiss and Jensen heaves in a breath. Jared's eyes are dark and smoldering, and Jensen can feel how hot his face must be. He always gets like this, pink and flushed and ridiculous, but Jared just licks a line up his throat and murmurs, "Turn over."

Jensen obeys, chest heaving, gets on his elbows and knees and buries his head in his hands. Jared's hands smooth down his back, and Jared leans over him to press kisses, open mouthed, wet kisses, to the back of his neck, his shoulders, working a path down his spine. Jensen's hands clench in the bedclothes, and Jared licks his way down his back. He rubs his thumbs over the dimples on either side of Jensen's spine, muttering, "Shit, man, you feel so good," and then spreads him wide. Jensen groans and squeezes his eyes shut, but Jared bypasses his hot, tight hole and licks the underside of his balls, first. Jensen jerks, smashing his face into the bed, and Jared just laughs this little, dirty laugh and licks again.

Jensen's whole body is trembling, shaking with the effort of staying still. Jared runs his hands up and down Jensen's thighs, stroking and petting, and Jensen moans and wiggles his hips a little. Jared takes the bait, a little moan of his own slipping out, muffled against Jensen's ass, and he licks up and _ohgod finally_ over Jensen's asshole. Jensen's shoulders arch, and he bites his lip, Jared's gentle licks turning into wet, sucking kisses, tongue thrusting out, licking into him, opening him up.

"Hey," Jared says, after a minute or so, once he's reduced Jensen to a quivering, shuddering mess, hard cock leaking pre-come all over his abs and the bed. "You wanna-"

"Oh my fucking god," Jensen hisses, "if you don't fuck me right the fuck now, I will fucking murder you."

Jared laughs and leans up, pressing his lips to Jensen's neck and reaching up past him for the nightstand drawer. His whole, hot, hard body is pressed seamlessly to Jensen's, the stiffness of his cock riding the crack of Jensen's ass. Jared is moving his hips unconsciously in little circles, and the friction is maddening. Jensen's ass is wet and open, and he needs Jared in him as soon as motherfucking possible. He can feel his hole clenching every time Jared's little hip roll drags the head of his cock across it, and he wants that cock yesterday.

"Yeah, fuck," Jared growls against his ear, propping himself up on one hand and opening a tube of lube with the other. Jensen turns his head and catches Jared's mouth in a sloppy, sideways kiss, tasting sweat and musk and beer on Jared's tongue. Jared's slick fingers press against his entrance, slick and a little cold, and Jensen moans in protest.

Jared murmurs an apology, kissing his cheek, and makes up for it by sliding two fingers into him. Jensen arches, hips jerking, pushing back against Jared's hand, fucking his fingers deeper, and Jared groans, biting down into the muscle of his shoulder. Jared's fingers twist, screwing into him, and his fingertips find Jensen's prostate, sending hot sparks up Jensen's spine. Jensen moans into the covers and Jared pulls out and pushes three fingers in before he can say anything. Not that he's in a position to say much anyway.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck," is about all he manages, as Jared massages his prostate deliberately, making his cock jerk and drip pre-come. Jensen slides one hand out from under his head and curls his fingers around his cock, the slippery head sliding between his fingers. He moans again, gritting his teeth, and Jared hisses, "Oh fuck no," and kneels up. The loss of the heat of his body is shocking, and Jensen gasps.

"Hands off," Jared demands, and Jensen lets go reluctantly. Jared's hand replaces his, and he thinks that's a much better idea. He pushes his hips back again, encouraging Jared's hand which has been steadily pistoning in and out of him, rubbing as deep as his long fingers can manage, and as deep as that is, Jared's cock is a lot bigger.

"God, Jared," he says, turning his head to look over his shoulder, barely able to make out Jared's silhouette in the dark room. Jared's hand tightens around his cock, the fingers in his ass press deep again, and he twitches, desperately trying to figure which to bear down on.

Jared makes the decision for him, finger-fucking him and fisting him at the same pace, pushing the slick tunnel of his hand down to the base of Jensen's cock at the same time that he pulls out, and then shoving deep again on the up-stroke. Jensen whines, muffling the noise with his hand, and Jared licks the edge of his asshole, where his fingers are stuffed in.

"Shitfuck," Jensen exclaims, and Jared laughs and licks again.

"Wanna see you come," he says, whisper loud over the sound of Jensen's harsh breathing, still fucking into his ass and pumping his cock in a rhythm that, coupled with the words coming out of Jared's mouth, is going to make Jensen get off real fast. "Wanna feel you squeeze my fingers, come all over my hand, get me all messy so I can fuck your sweet ass. Wanna fuck you, Jensen, god you're so hot, so needy, so hot for my cock. Then I'm gonna suck you down till you come again. You want that, Jensen?"

"Yeah," Jensen breathes, back arching, hips pumping, orgasm spiraling closer. "Fuck yeah, want that, want your cock, come on, Jared, please!"

"Come on, then," Jared urges, slamming his prostate with his fingers, and Jensen's whole body goes tense. Jared's hand on his cock is going at a furious pace, slick with pre-come, and as Jensen starts to come it gets even more slippery, sliding easily. Jensen shoots all over his stomach, and Jared's hand, and the bed, and he can't help the desperate sound that wrenches it self from his throat as he comes.

When it's over, Jared lets his cock go before it gets painful, but his fingers in Jensen's ass stay where they are, shifting gently. Jensen shudders and lifts his head.

"Jesus christ, Jared."

Jensen can hear the grin in Jared's voice. "That was fucking hot."

"Unh," Jensen agrees, taking a breath. Then he turns his head again and meets Jared's eyes. "Now you gonna fuck me?"

Jared groans and leans forward for another kiss, the fingers of his unoccupied hand curling around Jensen's hip, slick with Jensen's come. Jensen hums and squirms, and Jared breaks the kiss. "Fuck yeah. Open this? I'm busy."

Jensen finds a condom package being pressed into his hand, and he tugs it open with his teeth.

"Put it on me," Jared says, hushed, and Jensen reaches back with one hand to find his huge, hard cock. He takes his time, rubbing his thumb over the wet crown, and Jared moans and his hips shift, pushing into Jensen's hand. Jensen strokes down the shaft, curling his fingers around the girth of it and murmuring in appreciation. "Jensen, come on," Jared pleads, gripping the base of his cock, and Jensen takes pity on him, and on his ass, which is still full of Jared's fingers. As he rolls the condom on, he knows the fingers won't even compare, and he finds the knowledge of that makes his spent dick twitch.

"Yeah," Jared sighs, and pulls his fingers out. Jensen gasps at the emptiness, but then Jared is lining up and pressing the thick head of his cock to Jensen's hole, and Jensen puts his head back down between his elbows and relaxes his body, letting his knees slide farther apart as his shoulders slump.

Jared pushes into him with a low, drawn-out moan, and when he finally bottoms out, balls pressing up against Jensen's ass, Jensen lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Jared is huge, thick and throbbing inside him, splitting him open. It hurts a little, but Jensen relishes it, testing his readiness with a little circle of his hips. Jared huffs, fingers digging into Jensen's hips, and Jensen pushes back against him.

"Come on, baby," he mutters, turning his head so the blanket under his cheek is soothingly cool.

Jared pulls out, the long, slow drag of his cock inside Jensen making Jensen pant. He pauses with the head of his cock just barely inside him, and Jensen reaches back with his left hand to grab Jared's thigh. He tugs, and Jared sinks into him again, and they both moan. Jared takes that as an invitation, just as Jensen wanted, and starts fucking into him, hips rolling smooth and rhythmic. Jensen is reminded of the rolling of a ship, if a ship were fucking him in the ass and making him hard again.

He shoves that stupid thought away and concentrates on the feeling of Jared's thick dick fucking him open. His thighs are slippery with lube, and his stomach is messy with come, but his cock is filling again between his legs, and his hand on Jared's thigh is slipping they're both so sweaty. He gets a better grip, digging in, turning his body so his shoulder isn't blocking his view of Jared anymore. Jared is holding his hips tight in his big hands, fingers tucked in against his hipbones, thumbs pressing into the flesh of his ass. Jared's looking down at him with this intense concentration on his face, mouth half-open, tongue flicking out to wet his lower lip again and again.

Jensen lets go of Jared's thigh and pushes himself up on his hands, moaning sharply at the change in angle. Jared grunts, sinking back onto his heels, fucking up into Jensen's body. His cock is stroking over Jensen's prostate with every thrust, but with the way Jared's little breathy groans are changing pitch, he isn't going to get off again before Jared comes.

"Fuck yeah, Jared, baby," he murmurs, every word punctuated with a thrust of Jared's hips, "come on, fuck, that's it, hard, yeah, yeah!"

Jared fucks him harder, shorter, thrusts going a bit random, and then he goes taut, hips grinding deep into Jensen as Jared bows his head and comes, Jensen's name turning into a groan.

Jensen can feel his dick harden and throb inside him, and the way his hips are moving is reminiscent of the club. Jensen squirms under him, and Jared kisses the back of his neck again, murmuring, "Gimmie a second, gonna keep my promise."

Jensen's hips jerk as he remembers Jared's promise, and Jared pulls out. Jensen hears him slide the condom off with a little hiss, feels him lean over his shoulder to throw it out, and then Jared is pressing on his shoulder, turning him onto his back.

"Scoot up," Jared murmurs, urging Jensen up onto the pillows, and Jensen leans back and spreads his legs, letting Jared kneel between them.

Jared runs his hands down Jensen's chest and abdomen, looking a bit dazed, and then he leans in a licks over Jensen's right nipple. Jensen sucks in a breath through his teeth, but Jared doesn't spend very long on it, just a little bit of tonguing and sucking, and then he switches to the other one. Jensen arches up under him as his mouth moves down Jensen's chest.

Jared places a sucking kiss on Jensen's hip, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, worrying it with his teeth until Jensen jerks his hips up and his hard cock nudges Jared's throat. Jared chuckles and licks the head of his cock lazily.

"C'mon, Jared, seriously," Jensen whines, pushing up against his mouth. The head of his cock slips against Jared's lips, and Jared sticks his tongue out again and teases him.

"I'm recovering," Jared mutters, and Jensen shudders with the movement of his mouth.

Jared takes pity on him, licking a long stripe up the length of his cock, and sucking him into his mouth. Jensen muffles a groan with the palm of his hand, and Jared reaches up to tug it away.

"No, wanna hear you," he says, pulling off, so Jensen puts that hand instead on the back of Jared's head, twining his fingers in Jared's hair and holding on. Jared opens his mouth and swallows Jensen down. Jensen's hips snap up, but Jared's fingers come up to hold him down, gently but insistently. Jensen sighs, shifting restlessly under him, and Jared lets go of one hip to slide his fingers back inside him.

"Ohshit," Jensen moans, "oh god, fuck me fuck me christ, Jared, your fucking mouth, shit!" Jared takes him deep, the length of his cock slick with spit and come and sliding easily in Jared's mouth. "Gonna come," Jensen warns, hips twisting against Jared's grip, "This is fucking ridiculous, oh god, gonna-- fuck--"

Jared pulls back and works Jensen's cock with his other hand, mouth sealed tight around the head, and Jensen jerks and comes, hands going tight in Jared's hair and in the blankets.

Jared swallows, thank god, and pulls his fingers out of Jensen's ass and wipes them on the covers. Jensen, in a boneless heap on the pillows, gives him no resistance as he manhandles him under the covers and throws the top blanket on the floor.

"Wash that later," Jared mutters, climbing in beside Jensen and slides his hand up Jensen's chest. Jensen shifts and murmurs, and turns on his side. He opens his eyes, and Jared is staring at him in the dark, a faint smile on his face.

"Well," Jensen says, grinning, "fancy meeting you here."

"Shut up," Jared laughs and pulls him into his arms. Jensen goes easily, exhausted, and tucks his head under Jared's chin. Jared tilts Jensen's face up briefly for another kiss, gentle and languid, licking into his mouth slowly. Jensen sighs and kisses back, and Jared tugs the sheet up around his shoulders.

\---

When Jensen wakes up in the morning, the sun is up and the sunshine sits in bright squares on the floor. Jensen sits up, blinking, and he can hear noise coming from the kitchen. He climbs out of Jared's bed, getting a little thrill of pleasure, and finds clean sweats on top of a pile of clothes that turns out to be his. He pulls them on and goes into the bathroom to wash the mess off his stomach, grimacing, and then heads for the kitchen.

The radio is on, and Jensen hears a woman's voice speaking the rapid French of a news reporter. Jared catches sight of him before he's all the way in the doorway, and the way his face lights up makes Jensen's heart beat a little faster.

"Morning," Jared says. "I made eggs. I hope that's okay."

"No, that's awesome," Jensen says, grinning and running a hand through his hair. Jared watches him, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he looks away after a moment and back to the breakfast.

The eggs are excellent, as is the sausage and toast. Jared has Tobasco sauce, which Jensen praises him at great length for, and they eat together easily. Jared's feet find Jensen's under the table, and Jensen slides his between Jared's ankles without thinking.

After breakfast, Jensen takes a shower (alone, which he regrets), and thinks about going back to Sandy's. But he's getting out of the shower and trying to figure out how to get back into Jared's room to get his clothes when Jared knocks on the door and asks, "Um, so, since it's Saturday and we don't have anywhere to be... you wanna stick around and play Madden? Sandy never plays with me, and I thought you might... you know, want to, since you're... I mean, just--"

Jensen laughs and opens the door, holding the sweatpants in front of him, and Jared's standing there fiddling nervously with the game case. Jensen looks him up and down, pointedly, and says, "You think you could take me on?"

Jared snorts and gives him a little shove and Jensen hops into the sweats and demands a shirt. Jared gives him one of his, and it's too big, but it's worth the heat that sparks in Jared's eyes when he flops down on the couch in the living room only wearing Jared's clothes.

After Jensen kicks Jared's ass for an hour or two at Madden, he gets up and calls Sandy, and she just laughs at him for a couple of minutes.

Then she asks, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Jensen throws a quick glance at the kitchen, where Jared went when Jensen opened his phone, and says, "I really like him."

"I know," she replies. "I kind of figured this would happen, but... I mean, the job."

"Yeah," Jensen agrees. "The job. I don't think it'll fuck it up. I think it'll be fine."

"Okay," Sandy says. "I dated him for a while."

"What?" Jensen barely remembers to keep his voice down. "What the fuck, Sandy?"

"Jesus, calm down. It didn't work out, obviously."

"Why not?"

"Because he wants to fuck guys, Jensen," she says slowly, like he's an idiot. Jensen blushes, because, duh.

"Right."

"Okay, I'm gonna go, just gimme a call when you're headed back here."

"Okay," Jensen says.

"Or not," she says, laughing. "Whatever. I'll see you some time."

Jensen hangs up, pretty sure he just got permission to stay another night from someone not even involved, and Jared comes back.

"So?"

"It's all good," Jensen says, putting the phone down on the side table. "You dated Sandy?"

Jared looks awkward and sits down at the other end of the couch. Damn Jensen's stupid mouth. "Yeah," he admits, "couple of months. Long time ago, though. We stayed friends, though. You know. Whatever."

Jensen smiles and stretches out one leg to press his bare foot against Jared's thigh. "Just curious," he says. "I like you, wanna know more about you."

Jared's answering smile is tinged with relief. "I like you, too," he says quietly.

Jensen stays another night, and finally goes back to Sandy's on Sunday. She teases him and presses him for details, but he just grins and keeps it to himself.

"Oh god," she groans, "you're pretty into him, aren't you?"

"He's cool," Jensen says, casual.

"Okay," Sandy says, not convinced. "Well don't let your sappy gay love get in the way of this job, dude. Diamonds are pretty."

Jensen says, "Yeah," absently, and goes into the guest room to put on clean clothes and ponder that.

\---

The first thing that Jensen learns about the security system at the Diamond Centre is that it's pretty strong, but all electronic after dark. The Centre puts great faith in its alarm and sensors, and once the building is locked down for the nights and weekends, there is literally no human patrol inside. They guard the exterior, and that's it. So if they can slip past the guards and beat the alarm, they're golden.

The second thing Jensen learns is that the video cameras do not have audio.

"What the fuck?!" he hollers at Jared when Jared comes into the office that afternoon. Jared just looks at him, raising an eyebrow, and shuts the door.

Sandy buzzes in on the little office intercom and says, "If you two are going to have sex in there, can you lock the door or be real loud so I don't walk in?"

Jensen gestures Jared over to the computer and smacks him on the back of the head once he's close enough.

"There's no audio, you dick."

"What are you talking about?"

"The first day," Jensen explains slowly, "in the elevator. You said there was audio. No? You don't remember?" Jared looks suspiciously innocent and confused, and Jensen gives him the finger. "Nevermind, creep."

"You smell nice," Jared says, smirking, and Jensen glares at him.

"Creepy. You're really fucking creepy."

"Well it's good that I'm hot, then."

For Christmas, Jared takes the team out for dinner at some really expensive restaurant near his flat. Then he convinces Jensen to come home with him, and proceeds to ply him with eggnog until Jensen gives into the idea of being fucked on the living room floor in front of the gas fireplace. Jared goes so slow, licking him all over and opening him up so gently, Jensen is practically crying with want by the end of it, and he comes so hard with Jared pushing into him slow and deep, he's pretty sure he blacked out for a couple of seconds there.

It's awesome.

For New Years, Sandy has them over, and at midnight Jensen kisses Jared until he blushes.

The preparations take another two months, putting them at the end of February when things are starting to come together. Jensen is a recognized member of the Winchester company, and he's allowed down into the vault without supervision. He's got a damn good layout designed on the laptop, and he knows every bit of security in the area, from the cameras at the entrance to the magnetic alarm on the vault door.

One afternoon, Jared calls his cell and says, "Can you meet me outside in ten?"

When Jensen gets downstairs, on the pretense of going out for lunch (which he'll probably end up doing, now that he thinks about it), he finds Jared at the café. Jared walks with him for two blocks, out of the district, and turns a corner. They're standing at the edge of an alley, and while Jared doesn't go down it, Jensen knows immediately what it means.

"I'll lead the way," Jared says simply, tilting his head and leaning in like he's flirting (and he is, even now), tucking his fingers into Jensen's pocket.

The World Cup finals are in three days.

Jensen has never been so nervous about a heist in his life. Partially because he's fucking the boss, and partially because there's a goddamn lot of money in this, and they're so close.

Every morning, a private security guard goes down to the vault and spins the combination wheel until five numbers click into place. The wheel is huge, and there are over a million possible combinations.

Fortunately, Aldis, under the guise of a maintenance man checking fire alarms, has installed a pin-sized camera directly above the door, and following Jared's direction—iPod ear buds plugged into a radio, not an iPod—the battery pack and transmitter in the back of the red plastic fire alarm box at the end of the hall. The fire alarm still works. The pack is waterproof.

After the combination wheel comes the key, a foot long, and Jared wasn't kidding. But all Danneel needs is an image of the key, so when Jensen opens up his laptop one afternoon at a café a block away, the video that the computer downloaded from the transmitter early that morning contains not only the vault combination, but a clear video of the key being put into the lock and turned.

He emails it to her, and she sends him an email back that's full of smiley and winkey faces. He deletes it before he embarrasses himself in public.

Once the door is unlocked, the magnetic alarm system is next. Two plates sit next to each other, one bolted to the door, one bolted to the doorframe. If the two magnetic plates separate, the alarm goes off. There's a keypad by the door to turn the alarm off, but Jared negates the idea of using it. If they turn the alarm off, there's going to be a record of it, and the alarm company will know.

Inside the vault, there are heat and light sensors. If they're triggered, the alarm goes off.

They also can't just cut the alarm wires and have at it. Chad discovers this four days before the World Cup finals, and Jensen curses a blue streak.

The alarm system sends a little "check up" pulse of electricity to the alarm every couple of minutes. If it doesn't get a response, the alarm goes off.

But Chad found the problem, and Chad finds the answer. He hands Jared a pair of wire strippers and a piece of copper wire, and says, "Just make a loop."

There's a handful of other weird supplies piling up in Jared's living room. There's a huge piece of plexiglass leaning up against a bookshelf. Jared also has rolls and rolls of black duct tape, and Jensen buys rubber gloves and hairspray from the corner drug store.

Friday night, they meet at the nightclub again and get completely shitfaced.

Chad throws up on Sandy's shoes, and she sleeps with him anyway. Danneel picks up a guy and his girlfriend, and is gone before 1AM rolls around. Aldis passes out in the back of Jared's car, and Jared and Jensen have to carry him inside. Jensen straddles Jared's lap on the couch in his flat, rides him hard and fast, and Jared's moaning into his neck and coming before he knows it. Jared pulls out and lays Jensen out on the cushions and licks his come out of Jensen's ass. Then he finger fucks him while he's got Jensen's dick down his throat, and Jensen yells so loud the woman next door calls to make sure everything's all right.

Saturday morning, Jensen sleeps until eleven, wakes up with a hangover, and curses Jared for living. Jared just grins and calls him a bitch, forces ibuprofen and water on him, and then fucks him in the shower.

Saturday afternoon, the team meets at Jared's. The pre-finals-game show is on low volume in the living room, and Jensen and Danneel sit and watch it without really absorbing any of it.

They eat lightly, although Jared is cooking too much food for them. Jensen has noticed he's cooking a lot more lately, inviting Jensen over for dinner under the thin pretense of going over The Plan and the plot of the vault, but he's always got some masterpiece waiting. Jensen finds it extremely amusing that Jared cooks when he's nervous, and at the same time incredibly endearing. He kind of wants to be around every time Jared gets nervous like this.

And then he can't figure out whether he wants to keep working with Jared and benefit from him getting nerves over a heist, or live in his house with the dogs Jared wants, and benefit from him getting nerves over mundane stuff like a trip to the vet or whatever.

He scowls and crosses his arms, and Danneel gives him a strange look.

They sort of watch the game, ultimately not sure who's playing whom. Danneel and Sandy talk quietly on the other end of the sofa, and Chad and Aldis bounce between watching soccer and watching Jared. Jensen gives up after a while and pulls Jared away from his flitting about the flat like a hamburger-grilling-cake-baking freak and blows him against the wall in his bedroom.

Jared's significantly more relaxed after that.

\---

The game ends at a quarter to midnight, but by then, they are already gone, the kitchen cleaned and the lights out, and Jared's SUV missing from the driveway.

Aldis drives the two and a half miles to the diamond district carefully and patiently. Jared sits beside him in the passenger seat, thrumming with energy again. Jensen sits beside Chad, and the girls are in the back. In the way back are the remaining supplies they haven't used, and a pile of bags. Six of them are packed full of clothes and belongings, enough to get them out of the country comfortably so they can lay low for a bit. Jared's flat will sit empty for at least two months after this, and he's paid up until them, and Jensen thinks a little longingly of his own place in Paris. It's not like he needs a house sitter, but his plants are going to die. If they haven't already. Which they probably have, even though they're cacti. God damn it.

The rest of the bags in the back of the SUV are empty, but they won't be empty by the end of the night.

It's midnight when they pull up two blocks away from the district, and Jared climbs out. Jensen follows, and the girls get out with them. Aldis turns off the car, and Chad opens his laptop and starts it up. Jared turns on his Bluetooth and shoves it in his ear, and Chad puts on a headset.

"Testing? Jared is an asshole."

"You're a dick," Jared hisses, turning down the volume. "I hate you."

"It works, doesn't it?" Chad beams, and Jared gives him the finger.

They all put on latex gloves. Jensen slings a backpack onto his back, and Jared pulls the big plexiglass sheet out of the back and hands it to Sandy. She holds it steady with one hand, glancing around, and pulls a bag of her own over her shoulder. Danneel checks her inner coat pocket for the enormous key, and takes a bag. Jared grabs the last one and closes the trunk.

Aldis pulls forward into a real parking space and climbs into the back to take a nap until they're done. Chad stays alert, on the computer, with the maps open and a feed into the cameras on. Jensen's not sure how he managed to hack in without getting noticed, but he's been watching the security feeds himself from a slightly less invasive position, and there's been no warning about it.

Jared leads the way into the alley. Jensen checks his watch. 12:08am. He puts a hand on Jared's arm, and Jared freezes. Danneel and Sandy behind him stop dead, silent.

A single guard strolls past ahead of them, his silhouette visible against the light from the empty parking lot.

"Thirty seconds," Jensen breathes.

They give it thirty, and then Sandy pokes her head out. Coast is clear.

They start across the parking lot, keeping in the shadows, and they reach another, small alley. It's not even an alley—a car couldn't fit in here—it's just a walkway behind the Diamond Centre, that leads to a little unused garden.

Jared stops Sandy before she reaches the edge of this second blessed darkness.

"There's a ladder," he whispers, "under the plywood against the wall there." Sandy nods. She already knows, she's seen the pictures and the plot, and she raises the plexiglass in front of her.

At the other end of the garden is the back of the Diamond Centre, and is one of the few places in the district not monitored by video. On the ground level, the only entrance is a heavy door, but above it is a terrace with windows. Sandy and Jared cross to the wall and Jared sets up the ladder for her. Holding the plexiglass shield with one hand, she scales the ladder and eases up over the edge of the terrace.

Jensen takes a slow breath, heart pounding, blood racing with adrenaline. The plexiglass shield is to keep Sandy from been detected by the infrared sensor that covers the terrace. The plexiglass diffuses her body heat enough that she can get close to the detector. Sandy is supposed to leave the shield up against the detector, and cloak them all.

A minute later, Sandy is back at the edge of the terrace, sans huge shield, and Jensen and Danneel cross the garden and climb the ladder, joining Jared and Sandy on the terrace.

Jared steps aside, and Jensen kneels at a window that looks out onto the balcony-- or in onto a stairwell. He disables the window alarm with a tiny screwdriver and a wire cutter, and slides the window open silently.

Jared goes in first, tallest, and drops to the floor. Jensen goes next, and Jared's hands on his waist, helping him down-- not that he needs it-- are comforting and thrilling at the same time. Danneel follows, and Jared and Jensen give her a place to step as she comes down. Sandy hops over the windowsill easily, and Jared catches her in his arms, snickering. She swats him on the shoulder and he puts her down.

"We're inside," Jared says into the microphone, and Chad's voice comes back, "All clear."

Jensen leads the way down the dark stairwell, the only light coming in from outside, and that not much. He feels his way down the stairs, and opens the door at the bottom.

The hallway they step into is pitch black, but Jensen knows they are in the hallway outside the vault. He puts a hand on the wall, feels the edge of the elevator doors, and lets a "Yeah," out in a whispered breath.

Someone presses a bag into his hand, black, plastic, and he reaches up, feeling along the wall for one of the three video cameras that cover the hallway, eliminating blind spots for the monitors. The first thing he hits is the fire alarm, and the second is the camera on the left. The garbage bag goes up and over the camera, and he hears Jared say, "Done."

"Done," he agrees, and the lights flip on. Jensen blinks, startled, although he knew that was coming, and looks around. The hallway is quiet. Sandy is standing by the lightswitch, Danneel is across from Jensen under the camera she covered, and Jared is by the vault door, black plastic taped up around the camera over the door. He's grinning a crazy grin, eyes bright, excited.

Jensen approaches Jared and looks at the door. He's seen it before, plenty, has a couple dozen pictures of every angle, and yet here it is, now, thrillingly intimidating. The first thing he has to tackle is the magnetic alarm trigger. One side is bolted to the wall, the other to the door, and where they meet in the middle runs a current. If it is broken, the alarm goes off, and they're fucked. So he's not going to let that happen.

He drops his backpack on the floor and unzips it. Out comes a piece of aluminum, rigid and solid. Jensen covers one side with strong, outrageously sticky double-stick tape, and presses it to the two plates. Once Jensen is satisfied it'll stay, Jared unscrews the plates and rotated them to the side. Jensen tapes them to the wall, and that is done. The alarm plates stay together, current strong, but they no longer monitor the door.

Danneel comes out of the room beside the vault, looking a little disappointed. Jensen arches an eyebrow.

"The key was hanging up in there," she says, forlorn. "It's a huge breach of security, which is good for us, but."

"You can't try your key out," Jared says, grinning. "Forget it. I bet it's perfect. But since we're handed the original, I vote we use that. Plus, we're better off if they don't know their impossible key can be copied and their safe broken, if only they get someone smart enough."

Danneel beams and nods, hands over the key. Jared inserts the key into the lock and Jensen spins the combination, slowly and carefully. There's a click, and Jared says, "Lights."

Sandy switches off the lights. Inside the vault is a light sensor, and they don't want to trip it now, so close, so close to all the loot, all the money, all the diamonds. Jared and Jensen pull the door open slowly, carefully, and nothing happens. No one speaks, but Jensen can feel Jared at his side, warm and breathing shallowly. Jensen reaches out and squeezes whatever body part he finds (Jared's upper arm), reassuring.

Once the door is open, Jensen goes to his knees, feeling for the lock on the metal grate that stays locked during the day. His lock-picking kit is in his hand, and he inserts the picks. This is a new test to his expertise, but it's not like he needs to see into the keyhole anyway to pick it. Now, totally blind, he can pick the lock just fine. His hands are steady, and he feels his way through the pins one by one.

The door clicks and swings open.

Jared steps inside, and Jensen knows, even in the dark, that he has his hand on the ceiling. He only has a few minutes. Besides the light sensor is a heat and motion sensor on the other wall. Every moment that Jared is inside the vault raises the temperature, and they're not sure how long the hairspray will block it.

The day before, Jared went down to the vault with a couple of things to put away, and trusting the guard's familiarity with him to a extreme degree, pulled a can of hairspray out of his pocket and sprayed the sensor. The oily hairspray is still working, blocking the sensor from picking up any heat, and without any heat, the motion sensor stays off. So far so good.

Jared moves forward ten steps, and stops. Jensen steps away from the doorway and waits, in the dark. He can hear Danneel and Sandy breathing quietly, calm, and he takes a few breaths himself. He can hear Jared working, opening the panel that houses the alarm control and stripping the wires inside.

If he cuts them, the alarm goes off.

But if he does what he's supposed to, what Jensen and the others expect him to, he'll strip the inbound and outbound wires of the control, join them with the copper wire Chad handed Jensen a month ago, and loop the circuit.

Finally, Jared says, "Done," again, with a little sigh of relief, and Jensen echoes him. He steps into the room, and he can feel the women behind him, coming in with the bags.

It stays dark. Jensen pulls out a styrofoam box and covers up the heat and motion sensor and tapes it to the wall. Jared takes a strip of tape from him and covers the light sensor. Still, to minimize the risk, they keep the lights out. They have flashlights, and that's all they'll need.

Danneel pulls out the drill with its battery pack and its little metal bit, and Jensen finds his way to the edge of the vault boxes. They've seen the layout in the pictures, mapped the room, counted the size, but he's not one hundred percent on where the box locks are. Fortunately, Sandy is there with her flashlight. She turns it on, he positions the drill, she turns it off. He drills into the lock for a minute or so, and it breaks.

Danneel and Sandy pull out everything in the vault and throw it into the bag Jared is holding. They can't see what they're throwing in, but it's all heavy, with little sharp edges and the promise of sparkle. Box by box they work, flashlight on and off, drill buzzing, and Jared collecting stuff out of the boxes and piling the bags by the door. Everything else they just throw on the ground. They won't need to put the shit back in the vaults, after all.

It takes them three hours to work through as many boxes as they can. In the intermittent light of Sandy and Jared's flashlights, they can see the growing pile, the glint of gold, shine of diamonds, paper currency. Jensen is in a groove, working the boxes open, one by one: drill on, grind of the lock, drill off, open the door. He's found a rhythm, his heartbeat echoing it, and he knows, _knows,_ they're going to get out of here okay. But he doesn't let himself think that in a fully formed thought, lest it jinx the mission.

Not that he's superstitious like that.

By four in the morning, Jared is starting to get jittery. The building is still silent as the grave, and Chad is giving them quiet, regular updates. Nothing on the street. Some news on the radio of a small riot over by the stadium around two, and three police cars raced past, lights but no sirens, to deal with it. The building is quiet, cold, nothing on the videos inside, nothing but the regular passes of the guards on the outside.

When Jensen pauses to take a break from the way the vibrations from the drill is making his hands numb, Jared turns on his flashlight and the dim yellow light slides over the pile of bags by the door.

"What do y'all think?" he asks in an unnecessary whisper.

Sandy leans against the wall and stares at the pile, eyes wide.

"I think we got it."

Jensen looks at his watch. 4:19am. "It's early."

"Streets might get busy," Jared says. "People walking home?"

Danneel shrugs. "We might not be able to carry this all," she says, and laughs suddenly, delighted.

"Let's stop while we're ahead," Jensen agrees, grinning.

"Chad," Jared says, hand to his ear, "We're comin' out."

"Gotcha," Jensen hears, "streets are clear."

They almost can't carry it all. Jared has to carry two backpacks, both of them heavy, and it takes them a long time to make their way carefully out the window and down off the terrace. Sandy goes back for the plexiglass shield ("That shit was expensive," Jared mutters, and Jensen muffles a snort of giddy laughter).

"Wait," Chad says in Jared's ear. "Bus. Okay, go."

Jensen leads the way back down the alley to the car. Aldis unlocks the doors from the inside, and Chad flings the doors open and they throw the bags in, stripping off their gloves at the same time. Things clank and rattle and crunch, but Jared and Danneel pull the doors closed and Jensen and Sandy head down the street on foot.

The SUV pulls away from the curb gently, almost silently.

"Did we really need a stunt driver?" Jensen asks, raising an eyebrow.

Sandy laughs, slipping her arm into Jensen's. "Honey, we can have whatever we want," she says.

They make their way-- quickly, because it's cold-- onto a bigger street, and catch a cab. They ride fifteen minutes in the opposite direction, and get out and flag down another one back to Sandy's.

Jared's car is idling outside her flat. Jensen climbs in the front seat, startling Jared, and Sandy hops in the back with Danneel and Chad. Jensen wraps his arms around Jared's neck and Aldis just rolls his eyes and drives away.

Once they're on the A14 to Paris, Chad lets out a whoop, and Danneel shrieks with laughter in response.

"We fucking did it!" Aldis hollers, pounding the steering wheel, and Jared squeezes Jensen hard. Jensen is lit up with excitement, but the adrenaline of the heist is gone, and he's suddenly totally wiped.

Jensen falls asleep for an hour with his head on Jared's shoulder, and he's a little embarrassed when he wakes up. But Jared presses a secret little kiss behind his ear, and he smiles and directs Aldis to his apartment.

They crash in his flat for a few hours and park the SUV in his unused personal parking space in the garage. Not owning a car suddenly has way more perks than Jensen expected, although he's quietly planning on buying a stupidly nice one right now.

Having Jared in his bed is awesome, but all he wants to do is sleep. Fortunately, Jared has the same idea, and is out before Jensen has his shoes off.

At two in the afternoon on Sunday, Jensen gets up and finds that he has no food at all. But then he remembers that all of Jared's stupid way-too-much-cooking leftovers are in the car.

\---

"Holy shit," Chad mutters, as they sit in Jensen's den and open all the bags.

"I think this is the biggest job I've ever done," Jensen says, poking a finger in two million American dollars worth of jewelry, only a fraction of his cut of the haul.

"Well kids," Danneel sighs, standing up and picking up the backpack now stuffed full of envelopes of tiny sparkling diamonds and cash, "I've got a train to catch. I'm going to Madrid!"

Jensen is sad to see the team break up, but at the same time, he's left alone with Jared in his place, once Aldis leaves to get on a bus to Toulon, and Chad says something about a girl in town he knows and wanders off down the street. Sandy finally bows out, giving him a kiss on each cheek and telling him to come visit her in Dublin some time soon, and Jensen settles back down beside Jared in the middle of their loot.

He likes calling it loot, too, it's funnier that way.

"What are you going to do about the office?" Jensen asks later, his head pillowed on Jared's stomach, lying on the floor in the living room.

Jared shrugs, running his hand lazily through Jensen's hair. "Same as with the flat," he says. "Couple of months ahead paid up. They'll probably notice Winchester's gone, but I'm betting on one or two other vendors up and run once they realize the Diamond Centre can't keep their shit safe." He laughs, and Jensen's chest feels warm at the sound.

"So what now?" he asks, turning over and resting on his elbows. Jared lifts his head to press a kiss to his lips and smiles, eyes bright.

"How do you feel about Greece? My sister's friend has a place in Ithaca, and I figured we could go there."

Jensen feels himself flushing, and tries for sarcastic instead of touched and excited. "You figured we could go there?"

"Yeah," Jared says, running a hand down his back and grinning. "I think you'll like Greece."

"I think I will," Jensen agrees.

\---

Monday morning the heist hits the papers, shocking most of the European Union with the daring and ingenuity of the thieves that robbed the Antwerpen Diamond Centre. The police have some suspects, but from the quiet seclusion of a little whitewashed Grecian house on a cliff in Ithaca, Jensen breathes in the sea air a free, and outrageously rich, man.

 

 _fin._

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Three Minor Details (Fine Jewel Contracting)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/299374) by [mistyzeo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyzeo/pseuds/mistyzeo)




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